Iron Fic: American OC
by The Chairman
Summary: Contestants were given 24 hours to write 1500 words using an American OC falling in love with a Canon character as the secret ingredient.
1. Hello Minerva, Goodbye Minnie

**Hello Minerva, Goodbye Minnie**

_Washington, DC, 1946_

"Come on, Jack, you gotta have some stories about that English school."

I looked over at Ed watched as his blazing bourbon sloshed out of his glass and onto the table. The rest of the Corpsmen in my unit looked at me expectantly. "I dunno."

Ed shook his head. "Oh come on, pal! Don't worry; it's just us, your best buddies. We didn't go through all that training together to just become the newest official members of the Auror Corps of America, we're more than that. You can tell us anything." He looked over to the rest of them. "We won't laugh, will we fellas?"

I downed my blazing bourbon and thought about it. I hadn't told anyone what had really happened when I attended Hogwarts. Oh sure, I told them all about Quidditch and a little about the different houses and all that, but not why I didn't go out with any of the women they tried to fix me up with at the War Drive dances. I'd never spoken to anyone about that. "Lemme get a pitcher, we're out of beer."

I ignored their complaints and made my way over to the bar, hoisted the pitcher up top and waited for the bartender. As I waited I caught my reflection in the mirror, and instead of looking away I was transfixed. There I was, dark hair parted sharply, the brown eyes, in need of a shave, the robes of a newly minted officer in the Magical Defense Corps…but I didn't see twenty-one year-old me, I saw sixteen year-old me in the mirror, the guy who fell for the girl with the green eyes as soon as words came out of her mouth.

The pitcher of beer broke my concentration. I put a Sickle on the table, told the bartender to keep the change and made my way through the tables back to my fellow Corpsmen. They became occupied with the new pitcher and divvied up the beer, so I took a seat and didn't say much. After grabbing the remainder of Ed's drink and slamming it I decided it was time.

"Ok, guys, you know I went to school over there because of my dad, his job with the British Ministry of Magic. Auror Corps liaison, top secret stuff about the war in Europe. The British Minister of Magic told Dad that I had to go to that school, something about security, I dunno. It was weird going there, because I went over when I was sixteen. All of them started when they were eleven, so they knew each other pretty well. I was just a weird American student."

They looked at me expectantly, as I could tell they weren't buying that line. "Ok, fine. Her name was Minerva..."

-ooo-

_Hogwarts, September 1941_

"Jack Bennett."

Armando Dippet held out the Sorting hat and waited. They'd done the regular sorting, all the little kids, but then it was my turn. It felt weird having everyone watch me, but then again the whole place was lousy with weird compared to my old school Houdini. I walked over to the little stool that they used for sorting and looked up to the Headmaster.

I was almost six foot tall and the height was all wrong. "I think it's a little short, sir."

"Oh. Yes." He waved his wand and the legs extended. "On you go."

I sat down and before I could think the hat was placed on my head, and brother was it smelly and hot.

_You'd think so too if you'd just sorted the entirety of Hogwarts first years._

"_You can talk? I'm not saying anything, not out loud. You're reading my mind?"_

_Of course, I can talk just as well as or better than you. You didn't listen to my song? Quite entertaining this year, I believe. So what do we have here…an American? How delightful. We haven't had a transfer student in years, so let's get started. I'm quite knackered._

Over the next five minutes, which seemed like an eternity, the hat kept asking me questions. I answered as best as I could, but finally it made up its mind.

_GRYFFINDOR_

The hat came off my head and the light blinded me for a few moments. After I stood up I slowly walked over to the Gryffindor table and realized there weren't any open seats except way down the end, by the little kids. As I headed over to sit by some tiny girl I scanned the faces of the students who would be my new housemates, especially the ones about my age. Some of them gave me odd looks, one guy gave me a two-finger salute, but the girls? Boy, the girls were definitely looking in my direction.

I sat down there at the end by the little kids and didn't say much during the feast. Eventually, though, three girls about my age came down and sat across the table.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr. Bennett."

I smiled at the girl with the black hair and green eyes, and I guessed from her accent that she wasn't from England but Scotland. "Thanks, but you can just call me Jack."

The blonde girl next to her giggled. "I'm Daisy." She pointed to the other blonde girl. "That's Enid and this is Minerva. She's a Prefect. She was a hatstall, too."

I ignored the blondes and looked straight at Minerva. "What's a Prefect? I have no idea what a hatstall is, can you explain?"

Minerva laid out everything about Prefects and then told me the story, with some interruptions and additions from the blondes, about when she was a first year and a hatstall. Apparently it's the term for someone who takes the Sorting Hat forever to sort. I didn't say much, I just wanted to listen to her talk. And look, obviously. I liked looking at her.

-ooo-

_Washington DC 1946_

"Come on, you can't just leave it there." Ed turned his beer around on the table. "So you met a Scottish girl. What'd she look like?"

"Like Gene Tierney, but with bright green eyes. Do you want to hear this or not?" They quieted down and Billy slid another beer over to me.

I took a drink of my beer and then I filled them in, about everything. The talk about Prefects and hatstalls with Minerva was our first conversation, the first real conversation with anybody I'd had at my new school. I often think back on that and wonder if she came over because she was a Prefect or if she had another reason, but I never asked.

For the next two years things went along pretty well. After being the subject of a few tricks by some of the other boys, mostly older than me and in Slytherin, everyone accepted the fact that I wasn't going anywhere, wasn't trying to steal all their girlfriends with my accent and wasn't too bad of a wizard. Horrible at homework and assignments but a decent wizard when it came to the practical things. They did go on and on about how Quodpot wasn't as pure of a wizarding game as Quidditch, but the fact that nothing blew up in Quidditch just made it boring for me.

I did attend every single Quidditch match, though. I understood the game well enough to be able to follow all the positions, but I only watched the Chasers. One Chaser on the Gryffindor side in particular, actually. Minerva McGonagall. It was sad, really, as I had a girlfriend at the time, a girl from Ravenclaw who could really fill out a sweater, but she wasn't very smart. That's funny to me because, as I explained to the Corpsmen, Ravenclaw is supposed to be the smart house. When I sat in the stands with my girlfriend I watched Minerva. I was a lousy boyfriend.

Yes, it was pathetic. She was friendly towards me, sometimes doing things that could have been flirting, but I wasn't sure so I didn't act on it. I didn't follow her around like a lost puppy, either. I did my thing, she did hers, and occasionally we'd talk, like in Transfiguration. Boy, was she good in that class. Best in Gryffindor, probably better than all of the students in school. I was just thankful that she was in my house, as when I struggled with the Transfiguration homework in the Common Room she'd take pity on me and help out.

All the houses at Hogwarts have a defining characteristic. Ravenclaw, like I said earlier, is the smart house. Hufflepuff are the ones that get along with everybody and are kind of boring. Slytherins are, well, they're the Peter Lorre types. Sneaky. Stab you in the back and smile to your mother at the same time. So that left Gryffindor; my house had a lion mascot and we were supposed to be the brave ones. Brave. That wasn't me, though. Oh, I could do everything else. I could volunteer to try any potion out despite the warnings, duel in Defense class, you name it. But asking Minerva McGonagall out was the one thing I just couldn't do. Not until my seventh year, my last year at Hogwarts. I asked her out then.

But we never went on that date to Hogsmeade.

-ooo-

_Hogwarts, May 1944_

"You're very quiet tonight, Jack."

I turned to Minerva and watched as those green eyes studied me intently. "Bad day."

"You did lose a point in Transfiguration. How anyone could fail to pay attention in that class is beyond me. Professor…"

I cut her off. "We all don't have your talent. If you didn't help me I don't think I'd pass." I smiled at her. "Can't you just let me take a peek at your paper? To see if I'm on the right track."

I never had a chance to hear what would have been yet one more half-hearted refusal to look at her parchment, the one that came before she handed over her parchment, as Headmaster Dippet's voice rang through the castle.

"All students will immediately relocate to the Dungeon Hall. The Muggle Repelling enchantments have failed to reroute Muggle aeroplaney bambers. Prefects please take the lead."

Minerva looked over to me with worry. "Jack, what does this mean?"

I stood up quickly and held out my hand to her. "It means, Head Girl, that the German Muggles might bomb Hogwarts like they've been pounding London. Go, you're in charge of the little kids."

She took my hand and got off the sofa quickly, but she didn't let go of my hand. "Come with me, I'll need your help."

For a second I didn't want to move, I just wanted to hold her hand. "Ok, sure."

We marched the worried kids down to the dungeon and even though it was May as soon as we got down there I shivered. No matter what the temperature outside that place was always cold. It was when everybody was in their place that the castle began moving, more than just the stairs. Arches began moving, crisscrossing into protective barriers over the different houses. It was then that she realized that she was still holding my hand.

"Oh. Terribly sorry." She pulled her hand out of mine and turned a slight shade of red.

Somewhere deep inside the Gryffindor finally came out in me. I reached out and took her hand. "I'm not."

Headmaster Dippet walked through the dungeon, wand held at his throat for amplification. "Please be seated. We will announce when it is safe to go back to your Common Rooms."

Even though she was Head Girl Minerva led me over to the back corner of the Gryffindor section, far away from the other students. She pulled a handkerchief out of her robe, transfigured it into a blanket and then cast a cushioning charm on it.

For the next hour we sat there, waiting. It was also when she looked me in the eye and for the first time it was different than when she helped me with my homework.

"Jack, aren't you going out with Sophie Steeplejack?"

I shook my head. "Not any more. She broke it off last week."

"And you didn't say anything?" She turned to face me straight on and gave me a look worthy of any professor. "Why did she chuck you?"

I leaned my head back against the cold stone of the dungeon wall. "Dunno, really. She said I wanted to go out with someone else. Didn't treat her right."

"John?"

It was her use of my given name that brought it out of me. "It's you, Minnie. I guess I've always wanted to go out with you. Ever since that first night when I was sorted."

Her eyes went wide. "But you never said a word!"

"So much for Gryffindor courage. I know. But I'm saying it now. Minnie, will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

For a moment she didn't say anything, but then her eyes softened. "I would love to, Jack." She leaned forward and kissed me gently. "Hopefully Dilwert won't schedule Quidditch practice for that weekend. He has been threatening to do so. You know if we beat Slytherin…"

"We win the Quidditch Cup. I know."

She leaned in close to me and I put my arm around her. I knew it was horrible, but I hoped those Germans kept flying over Scotland for a long time.

-ooo-

_Washington, DC, 1946_

"I don't see the problem, Jack." Ed finished his beer. "You finally told her how you felt and she even smooched you. So why isn't she here now? Is she still over there?"

I nodded. "She's still over there. We'd talked about her coming over here after we finished Hogwarts. Told her I'd show her around, maybe even take her to one of the Muggle movies that we always sneak into while Disillusioned. As for why we're not together…" I was silent for a long time. Finally though, I looked up at the faces of the Corpsmen around the table. Ed had been right; we had gone through a lot together. All of the training, keeping Johnson out of the brig when he got plastered after basic, but more than that we knew that we could be on the front lines keeping the Muggle armies safe from those damned Durmstrang wizards who had thrown in with the Nazis. It could all be over in the blink of an eye, all of us gone.

I took a deep breath. "It was Quidditch."

"She chucked you for that namby-pamby sport?" Ed looked at me oddly. "Was she that nutso about Quidditch?"

"No. Wasn't that. She got hurt." I took the last of the beer from the pitcher. "The Slytherin match was when it happened. Remember how I told you guys that they play dirty? They really did that time. One of their Beaters, the guys who smack the ball around and try to knock the Chasers off their brooms? Yeah, he did it. Got close to her and used his club to smash the front of her broom. She was really high up when it happened and the referee couldn't stop her fall."

"Jesus." Ed shook his head. "How bad?"

"Broken ribs, but that was the easy part. The School Healer fixed those with Skele-Gro. But she hit her head hard, I mean, really, really hard. She had a concussion and was out for three days. I visited her as often as I could, and when she opened her eyes I felt so happy. That didn't last, though." I looked over to my shoulder to the bartender. "Wish that chump had firewhiskey. I could really use one."

"You're not in Merrie Olde anymore, pal. Blazing bourbon's the best you can get with all the rationing." Ed leaned back and waved at the bartender. "I'll set you up, don't worry. But what happened?"

I watched the bartender load up a tray with shot glasses and place a new bottle of blazing bourbon on it, take out his wand and levitate the tray over to our table. I took a shot before it had even settled on the table.

"She lost her memory." I took the drink and tossed it down my throat. I felt it burn the entire way and it felt good. "Couldn't remember anything of the last week and only bits and pieces of the one before that. She had no memory of the air raid. She was just my friend Minerva, not my girl. It was hello, Minerva, goodbye, Minnie."

My unit sat there and I watched their faces as it sank in. Johnson filled up my shot glass again. Ed looked at me and shook his head. "And you couldn't do it again, could you? Damn."

"No. I couldn't. So much for Gryffindor courage."

"Shut up, idiot." Ed shook his head. "That was then. Who's the one who tried to enlist in the Muggle armies, not only here but over in England? You. Who was the one who…"

I shook my head. "It's not the same, Ed. It's not."

"You are a dummy, a really big dummy, do you know that?" Ed poured himself another shot. "So when this all stops, whenever the hell that is, go over there. Go find her and talk to her."

The laugh that came out of my mouth had no trace of joy. "I did talk to her. When I tried to enlist in the British Army, right before their Aurors found me started and shipped me back here on Dad's orders? I saw her."

-ooo-

_London, November, 1944_

"Another firewhiskey, Tom, and keep 'em coming." I waved a finger at the owner. I had a goal and I was going to accomplish it. I was going to get stinking drunk. "Or just bring the bottle."

"Jack? Jack Bennett, is that you?"

I knew that voice, that lilting brogue immediately. I turned around fast and almost fell off the barstool. "Minerva!"

She wore the robes of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but more than that she looked wonderful. At least for a few moments.

"Merlin's beard, Jack, what are you doing here?" She hurried over and took my hand, resting her other hand on top of it. "Pomona said that you'd gone back to America."

"Yeah, well, things didn't work out." I nodded to the empty barstool next to me. "But enough about that, you're at the Ministry now?"

She let go of my hand and quickly sat down. Tom put a glass in front of her and the firewhiskey bottle in front of me. "Yes."

In the entire time I'd known Minerva she'd never given single syllable answers, so I knew something must have gone wrong. "Minerva? What happened? You can tell me. It's me, Jack. The guy who cheated off of you in Transfiguration."

"You have the talent but you never applied yourself." She was the old Minerva for a second but it faded quickly. She lowered her head and closed her eyes. When she spoke again she didn't look up. "You haven't heard anything, have you?"

"Harry's handcuffs, Minerva…what happened?"

I sat and listened, poured the firewhiskey as she poured out her heart. After Hogwarts, when I left to go back to the States with my family, she spent one last summer with her parents. She met a boy, the son of a Muggle farmer, and had fallen in love. She'd even accepted his proposal, but since he was a Muggle, and she knew what happened with her mother when she married a Muggle, Minerva couldn't go through with the wedding plans.

I knew all about the struggles of her parents, of course. She'd told me about them during my second year at Hogwarts. Her mother had hidden her magic from her Presbyterian minister father and when Minerva's Hogwarts letter came it devastated the family. She couldn't think of doing that, not with her talents. Hell, she'd even won _Transfiguration Today's_Most Promising Newcomer award. She couldn't throw that away.

More than that, though, her heart was broken.

My mind raced as I thought of taking her in my arms, kissing her and telling her that everything would be ok, that I'd take care of her, that I'd love her, but I knew that wouldn't happen. She had no recollection of our time in the Dungeon Hall during the air raid, no recollection of the blissful week we'd spent before that Quidditch match. I knew she thought of me as a friend, only a friend, and that she was in no state to even think about what I wanted so much.

I couldn't do it.

We sat there and drank firewhiskey until the Aurors showed up to escort me out of the country, back to America where my father and the rest of the Auror Corps of America waited. We promised to write each other, and we did for a couple of letters, but then the gap between letters grew and grew until no more came.

-ooo-

_Washington, DC, 1946_

The table was quiet when I finished my story. Eventually, though, Ed put his hand on my shoulder. "You are brave, pal, I don't care what that Gryffiend…"

"Gryffindor."

"Whatever that bunch is called, you are brave. You were brave enough to know that you had to let her go. Ok, so maybe you didn't get to sign up with the Muggle army, maybe your father is in charge of the Auror Corps and you have to follow family tradition, maybe you missed out with your Scottish sweetheart, but you know what? Tomorrow's another day, pal o' mine. Think of all the girls who love this uniform!" He pulled on his robe causing the Auror Corps logo to ripple. "Come on, we need to go dancing. That's what you need. Dancing! You need your hand on the back of a pretty girl. Forget about her, you've been through enough. Think of all the dames out there who will swoon over your English education! Say something like all those Tommy soldiers."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Only Ed could make me laugh when I felt that low. I took a drink of liquid courage and tried to pull out the remainder of my Gryffindor bravery. "I'm right knackered, mate. Where's the loo?"

That set them all to laughing. We paid our tab, made our way to the ballroom and got another round, one on the house due to our Auror Corps robes. I stood back against the wall and watched as they made pitiful attempts to ask girls to dance. It was when I was there, drinking a beer by myself next to a potted palm tree when I noticed someone close to me.

"Is that an Auror Corps robe?"

She had curly brown hair, a little messy, but it was the big brown eyes that got my attention. Brown, not green, with little flecks of gold. "Yes, yes it is."

"Oh, I really hope you don't have to go fight those Durmstrang Krauts. The paper says it might happen soon."

I nodded. "Maybe. Dunno."

She looked up to me. "Well, you're not going tonight, anyway."

"That's right. Not tonight." I watched her sway to the music. After a deep breath I pulled out my last reserve of Gryffindor courage. "Would you care to dance?"

"Yes!" She took my hand and led me out to the dance floor.

We danced three songs straight and sometime during those dances I felt all those years of pining for Minerva McGonagall melt away. I knew that Minerva was safe as possible over at the Ministry, that if anyone could recover from heartbreak like she went through…well, it was her. She deserved to be happy. And that was when it hit me, looking into those brown eyes. I deserved to be happy, too.

When we finally came off the dance floor the brown-eyed girl put her arm through mine. "You dance wonderfully. Where did you learn? Did you take lessons?"

I nodded. "We all had to take lessons at school. I went to Hogwarts, over in Scotland."

"Scotland? Jeepers, that's so far away!"

"That's the truth." We arrived at a table and I pulled out a chair for her. After she sat down I took the chair next to her. "I'm sorry; you must think I'm rude. I don't even know your name." I held out my hand. "I'm Jack, Jack Barnett."

She took my hand and smiled. "Ophelia Granger."

We danced every dance that night. And the next night, and the night after that.


	2. Untitled

Betsy rubbed the back of her hand, tears silently running down her cheeks because of the pain but she refused to make a sound until she had reached the safety of her bed. She had spent the last hour trying to distract herself from the pain by debating on rather to send her older brother Hunter an owl in the morning demanding that he come as fast as he could to Hogwarts and take her home. It was his fault that she was even here to begin with, he had been the one to talk her into applying for the exchange student program that was offered to students at Salem's Witches Institute. She hadn't wanted to at first but then she had figured Hunter was right when he told her she would never get the chance to live in another country again.

She wiped at the tears that were falling freely down her face with her uninjured hand, as she quickly ran down one of the many staircases in the gloomy castle. She missed the open spaces at Salem's, how the entire school had a feeling of warmth and home instead of only being able to get that feeling in the Hufflepuff common room. Betsy assumed that the same was for the other common rooms, but since students from other house were only allowed in their own common room she could only imagine. It was just another difference between Hogwarts and Salem's, the latter she was missing more then she had thought was possible.

The entrance to the common room was insight, with a sigh of relief and one more brush at her tears, Betsy quickly entered the common room and ran towards the stairs leading to the girls dormitory and the safety of her own bed. She only hoped that no one in the crowded room had noticed her, but she knew it had been hopeless when she heard footsteps following her up the stares only to enter the room the same moment she had thrown herself across her bed and let the sobs she had been holding in rush out.

Betsy sat at the Hufflepuff table alone since her friends had left for the library as soon as they were done eating. Betsy pushed her food around her plate some more, staring at the clean white bandage she had let Susan Bones wrap around her right hand to replace the one she had bled through during the morning classes. Maybe Susan was right and she should go to the infirmary but a part of her was stubborn and wanted to show Umbridge that she couldn't be hurt that easily while another part was afraid that Umbridge would find out and would some how use it against her.

"What did you do?" Betsy looked up at the voice coming from across her only to find Seamus, an outspoken Gryffindor who Betsy had maybe exchanged five words with so far this year. Betsy went to move her hand off the table but he quickly grabbed it has he sat down, causing her to flinch in pain.

"Sorry mate," he muttered as he looked for the end of the bandage which Susan had magically sealed to keep the bandage from falling off, "So you didn't answer my question."

Betsy sighed, "Not that it's any of your business but I was reading a book about the history of Quodpot."

He snorted in disgust, "You would think reading about Quodpot would be punishment enough."

"I would rather have to use her quill every day then read a book about Quidditch. Talk about no excitement, the matches bore me to death," Betsy retorted causing him to look up from her bandage hand and gap.

"Are you trying to say Quodpot is better then Quidditch?" He asked shocked before winking at her and smiling he returned his attention to the bandage, "Then again I shouldn't be to hurt, Americans after all have no taste in sports. So what else did you do? Susan said that it's been bleeding through and first time offenses, even if they are for reading about Quodpot, don't normally cause that much damage."

"She didn't like my accent," Betsy responded then shrugged, "I might have also planted several Quods in her office a few weeks ago."

He laughed then and shook his head, "A little obvious being that your American and it's an American sport. All though I did wonder why those blasted cats were looking so terrified lately, I bet the explosions didn't help their nerves. Just do what I do, whenever I am around her I speak in the thickest accent I can manage."

Betsy couldn't help but smile, "So I admit it wasn't a well thought out plan."

He smirked as he began to unwrap the bandage. They sat in silence until the bandage was off and he just shook his head, "Holy Godric! Susan wasn't exaggerating this is pretty bad. Don't worry though I have something for it, I swear Fred and George ripped me off selling it for 3 bloody galleons but I was desperate at the time. Anyway here it is."

Seamus had pulled out a small container from his robe pocket and before Betsy could protest he was rubbing a salve on the back of her hand that instantly began to take the pain away. He carefully rewrapped the bandage then released her hand.

"Thank you," Betsy stated as she looked from her hand to the boy sitting across from her. She then reached into her robe pocket and began to feel around, "Here let me pay you for it, your right 3 galleons is a rip off."

Seamus just shook his head and smiled, "It's no big deal, just glad I could help. You might want to try and stay away from Umbridge until that has time to heal though, I don't know how well the salve will work if you have to go through it to many more times."

"Are you sure?" Betsy inquired only to have Seamus roll his eyes.

"I meant what I said," he responded as he stood up from the table and pocketed the salve. "Meet me here same time tomorrow, for it to do any good you have to apply it once a day for two weeks." Then without saying another word he turned and walked away from the table.

"So I have this idea," Seamus exclaimed as he came up behind Betsy a month later in the crowded corridor causing Betsy, Susan and Hannah to all jump. "Sorry about that, but anyway Betsy I have this idea that I think will be perfect and will drive Umbridge insane in the process. By the way how's your hand?"

Betsy grinned as she held up her hand, only a jumble of letters were visible. They were no longer bleeding or red but a bright pink thanks to the salve Seamus had applied every day for two weeks. She had felt bad about taking his supply, especially once Susan had informed her that he was spending a lot of time using the quill himself. She had continued to offer to pay Seamus back for the salve she was using but he always shrugged her off or flat out refused. He had however been able to cheer her up when she had been close to writing her brother asking to go home.

"I might even get lucky and it won't scar," Betsy replied as Seamus automatically took her cauldron out of her hands causing Susan and Hannah to roll their eyes.

"That's great," Seamus exclaimed, "So about my idea…"

"Which neither one of us want to know about so we will see you at dinner Betsy," Susan stated before she turned and walked back the way they had come with Hannah trailing slightly behind her.

"They have no sense of fun," Seamus muttered before shaking his head sadly and turning his attention to Betsy, "I need you to teach me every American slang word that you know."

"Why?" Betsy asked, even though she had a slight idea where this might be heading and she didn't like it at all. She had no intention of having another session with that quill.

"I just heard from Longbottom that Umbridge will be observing herbology tomorrow morning. I figured since she doesn't like accents, wouldn't it be great if I'm using your slang in my delightful accent? It would drive her crazy," Seamus excitedly exclaimed as he pushed the doors opened and they walked outside of the castle, a blast of cold air hitting the pair.

"That's a horrible idea Seamus!" Betsy shouted, "No I won't do it, she'll know I'm the one that taught you and we will both have to use her quill. I don't need to add anymore letters to the jumbled mess on my hand."

Seamus grinned as he adjusted his and Betsy's cauldron handles ignoring the glaring looks she was sending him. "Are you sure it's that bad of idea. I mean it might be worth it."

Betsy stopped then and turned to face Seamus, "Yes I do. I don't see why you have to provoke her or why you are trying to drag me in on this as well. It's a horrible idea and I'll have nothing to do with it."

She went to grab her cauldron back from Seamus but he was faster and was able to keep it out of reach. "Ok, I have another idea then."

"What is it?" Betsy asked then frowned, "I swear if it has anything to do with a prank from Umbridge I'm going back inside with or without my things."

Seamus smirked, then without responding he leaned in and kissed Betsy gently on the lips. When he had pulled way Betsy couldn't help but smile as she looked into his eyes. "So what do you think?" Seamus stated softly as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

"I think this is a great idea," Betsy whispered in return before she leaned in and kissed him again.


End file.
